


oscar mayer

by jilliancares



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Bath Sex, Hand Jobs, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-15
Updated: 2019-03-15
Packaged: 2019-11-18 12:26:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18120701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jilliancares/pseuds/jilliancares
Summary: Wade surprises Peter in the bathtub.





	oscar mayer

**Author's Note:**

> see a translation into russian here! https://ficbook.net/readfic/8192914

Peter let out a groan as he settled into the tub. This was the best part of the night. After swinging all around the city and stopping crime (and probably getting punched a few times in the process, let’s be honest), nothing felt better to his aching muscles than enveloping himself in warm water. He’d gotten used to his 3 a.m. soaks, and a couple times he’d even fallen asleep on accident, having woken up in the morning shivering in the cold water.

Today shouldn’t have been any different.

He’d left the bathroom door open behind him, not bothering to close it since he lived alone, and discarded his suit on the tiles beside the tub. The steam rising up to meet his face felt especially nice, and it was only after he’d slid down to dip his head under the water that he realized something was amiss, and that was only because Deadpool spoke to him.

“Is it bath time already, Petey?”

“GAH!” Peter yelled, flailing and sending water everywhere as Deadpool, who’d been standing directly beside the tub, casually stepped into it. The thing about Wade was he could be scary quiet when he wanted to be. He pretended to sneak up on Peter on rooftops all the time, but on the few occasions where Peter had been in sticky situations and in dire need of help, Deadpool had revealed himself at the last second and taken out the enemies Peter was facing without him ever having realized the mercenary was even there.

“Jesus, Wade — what are you doing?!” Peter demanded as he was effectively scooched out of the way, Deadpool sliding down in to the water behind him with his legs spread on either side of Peter’s waist. He was fully dressed in his suit. “This is disgusting — your shoes,” Peter protested, struggling weakly against the arms that’d wrapped themselves around his middle.

“My shoes are clean,” Wade protested. “I shower in my suit all the time.”

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Peter said. “Why are you in my _bath_? I’m naked!”

“I know!” Deadpool said, sounding delighted. “Why don’t we do this more often?”

“You’re insane.”

“So I’ve been told.”

“Get out of my bath.”

“Herein lies the real problem, Petey-pie,” said Deadpool. “I can’t.”

“What do you mean, you _can’t_?” Peter scoffed. Part of him wanted to twist around and look Wade in the face (mask eyes) when he said it, but a much bigger part of him was content with staring at the faucet and trying to ignore with every fiber of his being that this was even happening. His hands were very deliberately placed over his crotch.

“I can’t,” Deadpool insisted. “See, yesterday I was cursed by this magician guy. I thought he was totally faking me out, you know, all _‘until you’re with your heart’s desire, you will not have your Oscar Mayer,’_  but, uh. He wasn’t lying.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“My Oscar Mayer? Like the Oscar Mayer Wiener? My dick is gone, Spidey! I mean, actually, it’s not gone, it’s just really tiny, but I can’t live like this. Not because I think size matters _that_  much, but because I feel like a fucking pedophile when I masturbate.”

“Ew, Wade, Jesus.”

“Right?!” Wade said, leaning forward over Peter’s shoulder and looking at him, which just forced Peter to look back at him. “So? Will you do it?”

“Do _what_?”

 _“Until you're with your heart’s desire, you will not have your Oscar Mayer.”_  Wade repeated, slow and extra enunciated this time. “Let me jerk you off, Webs. Heh. Webs.”

Peter stiffened. “One, I’m not your heart’s desire,” Peter said. “And two, I don’t think he meant _jerking them off_.”

“Of course he did,” Wade scoffed. And then cleared his throat. “I wasn’t really sure what he meant, so I asked him to clarify it for me. Also, if you think I’m not in love with you, that’s your fault, not mine.”

“You really thought this would work?” Peter asked, finally twisting around to look at Deadpool, who’d leaned back. Somehow, this was a mistake, because looking into the eyes of his mask like this only made Peter more aware of the pressure of the gloved fingers around his hips. “That you could come to me with some weird, made up story after breaking into my apartment and _getting into my bath_ … and that I’d let you jerk me off?”

Wade cocked his head as if he was thinking. “I don’t really see any downside for you,” he finally concluded. “Besides, when’s the last time someone else has gotten you off? I’ll show you my child-sized dick if you really don’t believe me.”

“God, no — I don’t want to see that.”

“You and me both,” Wade sighed heartily, and then one of his hands slid up from Peter’s hip, over his lower stomach and up his chest and back down. “Come ooooon, Petey,” Wade begged. “Just let me do this. It’ll feel good!”

Peter was staring at the faucet again. Glaring, really. God, what the hell was his life? He’d thought things couldn’t get stranger than developing powers from a radioactive spider bite, but ever since Wade had come into his life, it seemed he had no problem upping the ante. For Christ’s sake, he was already in the bath with him.

“You know what?” Peter said, after taking a deep breath. “Whatever. Fine. Just make it quick.”

Deadpool squealed — like, right into his ear — and when Peter tried to flinch away from him, Wade’s hand splayed across his chest and pulled him right back. “Just relax, baby boy,” he crooned, his voice much softer now. “Let me take care of you.”

Fucking fuck. Peter was completely stiff, every muscle in his body tense as he remained pressed against Deadpool. And yet, when Wade’s gloved hand came to wrap around him, it was to both of their surprise to find him half hard.

Very unusually, Wade didn’t comment on this fact. No, he just started stroking Peter, the water of the bath lapping at the walls of the tub at his movements. Slowly, Peter started to sink into Wade, becoming less stiff as Wade’s hand glided over him. Even still, he was careful not to make any noise. Not even so much as a sigh.

“I can hardly tell if you’re liking this,” Wade grumbled, hooking his chin over Peter’s shoulder. “Are you this quiet when you’re alone?”

“Yep,” Peter said shortly, only to suck in a breath when Wade’s hand suddenly tightened with an upstroke. He could practically hear in the grin in Wade’s voice.

“Theeere it is,” he murmured. His other hand was just gripping the inside of Peter’s left thigh, pulling it away from the other and leaving plenty of room for Wade’s hand to work. “I bet you’re noisy when you’re all alone,” he continued. “All sighs and whimpers as you lay on your bed. Oooh, actually, I bet you do it all quick and hurried under the blankets. You’re probably really paranoid, huh? I mean, _you_  know living at the top of a building doesn’t do much for privacy these days.”

“Stop imagining me masturbating,” Peter said, breathless. He could feel Wade’s breath against the back of his neck through his mask. And his hand was picking up speed, Peter’s hips jerking upward every couple of strokes against his own accord.

“I’ll hardly have to imagine it after this,” Wade said. “Right now’s my newest, most _treasured_  spank bank memory. Imma play it on repeat 24/7.”

“I hate you,” Peter muttered, his hands planting themselves on Wade’s thighs as he arched up into his touch. This pushed their activities out of the water, making the leather of Wade’s glove more prominent on his skin, but Wade pulled him back down, pressing his back to Wade’s front again.

“Liar,” Wade sang. And then he laughed. “I’m totally ruining baths for you. You’re never gonna be able to sit here without thinking of me again.”

Peter moaned, unable to help it, and Wade’s responding chuckle only served to turn him on more. The bath was too hot, the water too warm against his already heated skin. He tipped his head back against Wade’s shoulder, struggling to breathe as Wade jerked him off. It felt much better than when he did it himself, though Peter was never going to admit that to Wade.

“You close, Petey?” Wade asked, and if Peter were less embarrassed about this whole situation, he’d tell him to keep talking. The deep resonance of Wade’s voice sounded _good_  and Peter wanted more of it. God, what was wrong with him?

“Fuck,” Peter said in response, unable to arch into the touch with the way Wade was holding him, so he had to just sit there and take it, his muscles tensing one by one as he approached his orgasm. “Hurry up, Wade.”

“Mmm, say my name again.”

“Fuck you,” Peter said, and Wade’s hand came to a stop at the base of Peter’s cock, making him jerk in surprise.

“Wade!” Peter complained, his nerves _thrumming_.

“Just say my name when you come, baby boy,” Wade said. “Please?”

“God, fine, just — come on!” Peter snapped, and Wade picked up the pace again, moving his hand faster and faster and making Peter gasp for breath.

Peter’s fingers dug into Wade’s thighs, probably hard enough for it to be painful, though Wade didn’t complain about it. He was breathing like a track runner, his eyes having slipped closed as it all built within him, as he hurtled closer and closer to the edge. By the time he got there, he completely forgot about Wade’s request, and yet he moaned his name anyway.

Wade continued to stroke him through the aftershocks, Peter’s body twitching where he sat, his cheeks and chest no doubt flushed.

“Hey!” Wade said suddenly, much too loudly and directly into Peter’s sensitive ear. “My dick’s back! My Oscar Mayer! Hallelujah!”

Strong arms wrapped around his torso and pulled him close, Wade still blabbing on in excitement behind him. Peter just shook his head, rolling his eyes.

For some reason, he’d expected the atmosphere after the fact to be tense and uncomfortable. Of course it wasn’t. Never with Wade.

He was right, though. Peter would never be able to take a bath again without thinking about this. Although, he doubted he’d ever be able to be within Wade’s presence again without Wade reminding him of it, so he didn’t know why he’d expected otherwise.

“So, can this be considered an open invite into your bathtub in the future?” Wade prompted, and Peter groaned. Only Wade.


End file.
